


Dawn of an Eternity

by Broken_souls



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by a Hozier Song, Original Character Death(s), Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Thranduil Not Being An Asshole, and somehow immortal, spoiler alert the main character is already dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:54:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_souls/pseuds/Broken_souls
Summary: Eternity always seems like a gift, except for those who truly have it. Haleigh Aker had been a mortal once, now she was something else -cursed to live forever while everyone she ever cared for died or suffered the weight of time. Nobody could ever understand the pain of living in such temporally and fragile world, except the elves -and amongst them the ones who had suffered a terrible loss.Haleigh starts a journey trying to discover how to break her curse, at some point she realises eternity is not so bad if you have someone to share it with.
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf & Thranduil, Thranduil (Tolkien) & Original Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Character(s), Thranduil (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	1. Death would have been kinder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English is not my first language so I usually already struggle to find the right words to describe what I want to say in normal english, medieval-like english is hell to me. 
> 
> I was playing Shadows of Mordor while listening to Hozier and In The Woods Somewhere started to play and that's how the idea for this fic was born. 
> 
> I already warn you i will update whenever I want.

There is no hope for those who are not dead nor alive -but lost somewhere in between. And she was there, the place where the sun never sets -nor rises-, where the souls of thieves and kings all the same remain lost, restless and forlorn. Not alone. Since there were many things in the darkness, some of them good -most of them bad-. The shapeless features of those who inhabited in the blackness would abide in her memory for centuries. Even after having awakened from the dream of death she would remember what she saw in the landless land of the astrayed souls.

Her sons grew older while her espectre decayed. They fought, they loved, they died -as she had before them. Soon, her essence forgot it had ever belonged to a human -nothing less than a warrior- whose name she could no longer remember. Her fight long since disregarded. But before death had taken her so heartlessly she had been someone worth remembering. Haleigh Neisa Aker, _The Steady Hand, The Mother of Lords, Daughter of Alistair Aker_ , -and later, the grandchildren of her grandchildren would call her _The Lonesome Aker_ , the one who would outlive them all.

In the dark, her existence became one of suffering and desolation. Even when an _ally_ -a soul as lost as hers- reached out to save her, she endured in the shadows, powerless, for she had been in the darkness long enough to forget the existence of light.

"There's hope for you, _Steady Hand_ , your soul is yet to be doomed. _Fight_ , there's hope." The words were meaningless, language did not exist in the blackness of the misplaced souls, although it was familiar enough to awake conscious. She remembered she had had a mouth once, of which words would come out if she wished so. A mouth to speak, a mouth to cry and beg and laugh and kiss. With that knowledge, the once called _Steady Hand_ by both enemies and allies, held the offering hand of a friend and arose from the emptiness of death.

The night was cold and the only witness of her awakening was the lone moon who see us all in our darkest times. The snow in which she had remained buried for two hundred years burned her skin, -a grown man wouldn't last long in such a freezing state, nonetheless, she would not die for she had already been amongst the dead. The friend, the hand which rescued her from the eternal shadows, waited until Haleigh learnt how to breath again -the air was cold but it made her feel _alive_ once more-, while she did that, the cully searched for beasts or enemies around the undead woman, wherever he walked left no footmarks, for it is well known ghost do not leave such.

Once an elf, now a ghost, -snow would never know the weight of his feet. He was old, albeit not older than she would get to be. He spoke in a language she understood and yet the words seemed lost in the fog. "You were cursed once by Fahern -I was as well. Now I reach to you, _Steady Hand_ , to end our imprisonment once and for all. You must find Fahern, the dark wizard, and act where I can't. _You_ must slay him."

Her throat was sore, even so she was able to speak her mind to the elf-ghost. " _No_."

Her legs were numb when she arose, she managed to walk two or three steps before falling. The elf stood -as gracious and ethereal as he was- and offered a hand.

"Don't be _foolish_ , child. You are not free and you will never be as long as Fahern remains in this world." Without any other aid than the one offered by the spectre, she emerged and stood straight in the cold snow of the North. The elf could not be touched but his essence could be felt, -she could see through him, walk though him. But she could not ignore his hand on hers -not warm nor cold-, full of strength and spirit. She would have offered her aid, the same way he had offered his to her, but -like one of her many names said- she was a mother, and the well-being of her offsprings was the only thing that mattered to her in that lonely night full of darkness and hope. "Child, - _my_ child."

"The house once you called your own is that way into the woods, there you will find your children. I will wait until you pay your respects and then, we will go South towards the Gladden Fields." The elf melted into the landscape until no sign of his presence remained on Middle-Earth. The woman walked desperately trying to find her sons who were no longer on the earth -but underneath. A lone wolf, rabid and starved, followed the smell of a woman who should have been dead. It was too fast, she was too scared, and soon enough the white snow became red.

When she awoke again from death, she found herself in white sheets stained red. A ranger had found her and killed the beast, he had believed her _dead_ -and that she was-, but her eyes had been open with tears of hope. And now she was in a stranger's bed, wounded but not with the dead _yet_. "Who are you, stranger of the night? My brother saved you from a beast two nights ago. I must ask how you survived."

"My name was once Haleigh, daughter of Aker. I must speak to the Lord of this house." The woman besides her, the one who had healed her wounds and stood with her until her fever broke, glanced at her. The same blonde hair, a kind smile, witted eyes and _steady hands_ , -a familiar face, and yet unknown. She had many questions, most of them could not be answered. "My brother rules this land, you are in the House of Aker. I must ask again, who are you?"

"That cannot be it. I am Haleigh Aker - _The Steady Hand_ \- Alistair is my father and Nevaeh, my mother. I demand to speak to my brother, Lord Caelan." Her eyes were not those of a liar. There was fear, _yes_ , but that didn't make her words less honest. Her face was almost the same one of the paintings in the halls, the face of a warrior believed dead. The woman glanced at the undead warrior -she was her blood- and thought carefully what to say. "He's dead, been for the last two hundred years. Unlike you, it seems."

Time didn't exist in the darkness, and like so, the perception of such was arcane to her. _Time_. How long had it been since she had fought besides her brother? How long since her children learned how to walk? How long? _Too long_. She started crying for time was not an enemy which could be beaten, nothing could be done to take back the years that had passed. She asked a question the answer of which she already knew, -her descendant pitied her. "My children- Asher and Myron..."

"Lord Myron held the title for five years until a fever took him, too young. Lord Asher ruled these lands for decades, he married a southern Lady who gave birth to my father and uncles." She should have followed the elf-ghost and think no more of her past, it would have hurted less than knowing the truth. Two hundred years in the dark, mislaid, _forgotten_. Death would have been kinder. Fahern had no mercy, and likewise, when the time would come he would receive none. "Where are their graves, child?"

"Outside, come with me. -Let me help you." Her wounds still hurt but not as much as her broken heart. Everyone who had ever loved her had died and she was alone, with her pain and fears, and the only company of the ghost of an elf -as dead and forgotten as she was-. The children of her grandchildren were kind, but she didn't know them nor trusted them. Many things could have changed in two hundred years. The house of Aker, it seemed, was one of the few things that remained the same. "Tell me, _Daughter of the Night_ , how does one survive death?"

"One does not. I'm not dead, only cursed. In a blackness worst than death I lived on until someone rescued me." The woman was young, not married yet. And she still held the innocence of children who love stories about wars and dragons, unaware of the cruelty and suffering those stories carry. But Haleigh would not be the one who would burn down her innocence -like dragonfire had burned the great Alistair to death. "Who saved you?"

"A _friend_ -I believe. An elf." She would not mention he was a spectre, for they were usually evil. And if not, their souls were stained with revengeful anger -like her elf-ghost. The young woman held her close to prevent her from falling, words were easier now but walking while wounded was a difficult task. "What's your name, _Daughter of my Grandchildren_."

"Leah, a strange name in the Aker House but common in my mother's. My brother was named after your son." Their graves had beautiful flowers, not fresh but beautiful nevertheless. As a child, sweet Leah used to visit their graves after hearing the stories of their adventures. And now, as a young woman, Leah laid flowers on their graves because no-one else would, and she remembered their names as much as she wished others to remember her own whenever her death arrived. She left the mother alone to grief.

 _The Steady Hand_ shook as the tears fell, her beloved children were dead. Without a farewell, without a warning, -gone to a place she couldn't follow. No mother should ever have to outlive her offspring, it was a fate far too painful. The ghost appeared besides her. "Say farewell to your children, it's time to go."

"Do not dare to tell me what to do, I will mourn my children for as long as I need to." The elf-ghost stood besides her and looked at the gravestones: Myron Aker and Asher Aker. The first one had died too young, merely a blink in an elf's life. He had forgotten what grief was -his daughter had died by Fahern's hands too long ago, and eventually the affliction had become anger. _Thirst for revenge_. "It doesn't matter how long you mourn, it won't bring them back. They are out of your reach."

" _Leave_ , ghost. I do not want you here." He obeyed and let her cry. Leah came back not long after, a young man besides her. He looked at Haleigh as if it was her and not the elf the one who was a ghost. There weren't many women in the Aker bloodline, and the ones who were born this being the case were always strong-willed and kind-hearted, warriors and mothers the same. Leah might have had the innocence of a child but her brother treated her in such a way that a raised voice or a fist could break her, -but she was an Aker. A _fighter_. The fact that she was a woman in a usually male bloodline didn't make her any weaker. Her brother didn't seem to understand that. _"Daughter of Alistair_ , I am Lord Aker, ruler of these lands. I hope my sister's wordiness has not bothered you much."

"Not at all, my Lord. _Sweet Leah_ is quite a lovely company." The Lord looked at her sister not sure if they were talking about the same person, but decided not to add another word to that matter. Instead, he smiled and ignored Haleigh's dried tears. "You are my blood, _Steady Hand_ , you might call me Asher."

"I would never call you such name." His child was the only one she would call by that name, no-one else. Myron was the kindest, but Asher -the quick witted- had always been her favourite. Now they were both dead, names on gravestones, no Lord Aker would ever be as bright as her sons. The actual Lord Aker realised his mistake far too late and was left speachless. "I must go, -my men need me. We are going to haunt beasts in the woods. _Steady Hand_ , feel free to abide in my lands for as long as you desire. You will always be welcomed in our house."

"Thank you, my Lord." He left and so did Leah after having showed her the room where she would stay. It was bigger than the one where her wounds had been healed, there was a fireplace and a bookshelf, she read the book titles, one of them had her name written. _The Lonesome Aker_ didn't leave her quarters until the moon and its light came to visit her. Her wounds still hurt even though they were almost completely healed -the curse made her hard to die by the sword. Fools would think of it not as a curse but a gift, however Haleigh knew she was doomed for Fahern had taken away from her the gift of the secondborn, _mortality_. She would live an eternity and watch all her children die one after another, until she was the last Aker who remained alive. That was her curse. Someone knocked at the door, _Sweet_ _Leah_ it was. " _Mother of my Grandfathers_ , you should eat. Your wounds are not healed and a starved wolf is a hard adversary. _Eat_ , tomorrow shall be a better day."

"Thank you for your kind words, Lady Leah. I will always remember you." The young woman, always concerned about the weak legacy a simple sister of a Lord as she was would leave behind, smiled with gratitude. Leah had remembered the name of her children and Haleigh would do the same for her when the time came. At the Lord's table only sat him, his right hand, _Sweet Leah_ and an uncle of the siblings. _The Cursed Warrior_ sat besides the only other woman -the only one who deserved her kindness- and ate realising now she had been starving. "Tell me, _Steady Hand_ , for how long will you stay with us?"

"I do not know, my Lord." The other male seemed to know who she was but they did not pay enough respect, -she was a _woman_ after all, and they were prideful men. The Lord of the land -the less slow-witted amongst those men- understood Haleigh was a living legend, someone who could be used to inspire soldiers and scare enemies. And, having that in mind, he would try to keep her close for as long as he could. "Lady Haleigh, you could fight amongst my men and serve me as you served your father -as loyally as you would have served Lord Asher, the one I was named after."

"Do not compare yourself to my father, you will never be half the man he was. _As for my son_ , you are not worth of his name, nor his title." Lord Asher would have been angry if he hadn't been so afraid. He was a weak man who had never had to prove himself worth of anything, he was the successor of the title of Lord and none of his uncles had ever tried to take it from him. He had never been in a real fight, the ones where you are aware you won't survive but you fight nevertheless. He was _pathetic_. But this was a new era, there was no real danger, no more dragons to slay. "I will leave in a month. A fast horse and a balanced sword will be needed."

He nodded and she went to her quarters after that. The elf-ghost appeared once again. His hair was long and he wore a crown, a quiver on his back and a bow. _Very elf-like_. She hadn't seen many of his kin but the stories she had heard as a child seemed to fit the ethereal man. "Do you happen know where that wizard called Fahern is?"

"No, but I know the place where he killed me many years ago." Only the name had endured in the blackness, -not his nor her daughter's, but the name of the wizard who had doomed him. The ghost couldn't even imagine how the soft sheets felt like against the skin, the texture of wood, the heat of a fire, the cold of the night -it felt all the same, _empty_. As if something precious had been taken from him. The woman changed her ropes being careful with her wounds."Is there a name I can call you elf-ghost?"

"If there was one I forgot it too long ago. Name me however you want - _except_ elf-ghost. I do not like that one, child." Her voice was soft and barely noticeable, like whispered words during a snowstorm. He did not hate humans, but he didn't especially like them either -he _tolerated_ them. Haleigh had dealt with enough men during her lifetime to know tolerance wasn't enough, she deserved respect. "Then you shall not call me _child_ , ghost."

"Agreeable, _Mahtar_." She understood Sindarin although she did not spoke it nor write in said language. Quenya, the language the elf had spoken in was arcane and impossible to understand to her. Haleigh asked what was the word for _light_ in Quenyan for she did not know. " _Cala_ it is. For instance, the name Calion means Son of Light."

"Then _Calion_ shall be your name, for you seem to be made of light, spectre." The elf-ghost didn't seem to like being called spectre, although that was what he was, the ashes of what used to be a great fire. Only a shadow of what he once had been. "Sleep with one eye open, Mahtar, you are within your family's house but not amongst friends. Do not trust them more than needed."

"I won't, Calion. Besides, I do not believe any of them would be able to kill me even if they tried for centuries, -I am far too cursed to die so soon." Almost a smile appeared on the elf's face, she did not notice for her eyes were already closed and her body was under the blankets. Her dreams were shapeless, full of sorrows and emptiness, -cruel ghosts from the blackness haunted her, and she remained helpless and restless through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like this first charapter, I intend this story to be long and there are many things I've already planed.
> 
> These are the faceclaims I've imagined for the characters so far:
> 
> Haleigh Aker - Katheryn Winnick (Vikings)  
> Calion - Tom Hiddleston (Thor: The Dark World) +white hair  
> Asher Aker II - Robert Pattinson (The King)  
> Leah Aker - Freya Allan (The Witcher)  
> Alistair Aker - Mads Mikkelsen (Michael Kohlhaas)  
> Nevaeh Aker - Lena Headey (Game of Thrones)  
> Caelan Aker - Jamie Campbell Bower (Camelot)  
> Asher Aker - Ben Barnes (The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian)  
> Myron Aker - Logan Lerman (The Three Musketeers)


	2. A beast lurking in the shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haleigh starts her journey with Calion.

A week passed too soon since time no longer had a meaning to her. The sun setting and rising didn't affect her at all, only the scarred wounds seemed to notice the days that went by. She felt stronger. Haleigh found herself training and reading, and spending the evenings collecting flowers with Leah only to leave them on top of her sons' graves afterwards. Her sword was ready, good steal that could behead a man in the middle of a fight if she wished so, -maybe a little too heavy, but she would not complain. Then another week passed -and another.

The soft light of the setting sun felt strange, arcane - _too many years in the shadows_. When the dark night arrived the calmness that came with the sun vanished -the night belonged to the beasts and the mournful. Haleigh stayed besides the graves of her children a little longer. Myron and Asher, even in death she loved them.

"Lady Haleigh, the Lord is awaiting for you. Today's banquet is in your honour." Lady Lyra -Leah's mother- with a voice not as kind as her daughter's called her. All her beloved ones, _buried too many years ago_ , had a place in that cemetery and in her heart -apart from her husband, there was no gravestone nor sign of his existence. _Some deaths are too painful to remember_. 

Haleigh was escorted by Lady Lyra -a swollen raven haired noblewoman who thought women were always more beautiful when they were _quiet_. Her hands were numb and the meat was insipid, the wine was too sweet and the company barely tolerable. That was no place to call home.

Where were Caelan's stories about great wars and abominable beasts? Where was Alistair II chasing Myron while pretending to be strong knights? Where was Thea and her wise advice? Where was Asher? Where was Declan? - _dead_ , forgotten, lost into oblivion. Whatever remained of that time so long ago was just a grotesque and misshaped version of what once had been. The only pure and virtuous thing in that Dantean pantomime was Leah - _sweet Leah_ \- who smiled brighter than the sun when she saw Haleigh. "Lady Haleigh! Come, sit besides me."

Sweet Leah told her stories about the ones who carried the Aker name, about Declan II - _The Maledicted_ \- and the story of how a little girl cursed him -he took his own life after his daughter's death. Haleigh II and Lauryn, granddaughters of Haleigh's brother -both died murdered in their way to the Aker lands when they were barely girls. Alistair II, Caelan's son, had been known as _The Renouncer_ after having given the title of Lord to Asher. Evander -Leah's father and Asher's youngest son- ruled for twenty three years and married twice -the first one for love, the second one for duty. The only living son of Asher was Alistair III who, just as his ancestor Alistair II had, renounced to the title of Lord -the one Asher II now carried- and married Lyra, his brother's widow. He had Asher's eyes but not his manners -he was prideful and rough and he ate like a starved orc. _As disgusting as that was_. Wine was dripping from his beard while he told a very attentive Lord Asher II the things a _man_ had to do to get what he deserved by _right_ -his conception of mankind clearly didn't include women as an equal.

"Men are chaotic and prideful. They demand respect while they give none." The elf-ghost whispered and Haleigh didn't deny the accusations. The spectre never left her side -he preferred to remain in the shadows but even when he was unable to be seen Haleigh knew he was there. Like a cold wind inside her bones -something that cannot be ignored. He talked about Fahern and his dark magic, never mentioning his family - _he could barely remember them_.

The month ended how all things end - _too soon_ \- and Haleigh knew it was time to leave. She had a long quest ahead, and the dangers and sorrows would not be few. Many villagers were there, driven by curiosity and the stories they have heard of the _Steady Hand_ ; Lady Lyra and Alistair III stood besides Asher II with pretended humbleness and Lord Aker graciously feigned affection towards the warrior. "It is devastating to see you depart so soon, _Steady Hand_ , _Mother of Lords_ and _Daughter of Alistair The Great_. Never forget you have a family here waiting for you."

Haleigh accepted his words politely. Her horse -as black as a moonless night- was ready and she had enough supplies to survive a month or two. A map was provided to her and Lord Aker told her which places to avoid to make her journey more peaceful. Leah cried, not many cared about her in that house in the North, but sweet Leah was an unexpected friend, there were no words to express her gratitude towards the girl. Leah was not ready to say goodbye -nobody ever is. "Don't leave Lady Haleigh, please. Stay a little longer."

"My wounds are healed and my children dead. There's nothing for me here, no reason for me to stay." Leah cried since she was very lonely in that cold house full of familiar strangers. The undead woman dried her tears and hugged her closely - _when was the last time she had hugged someone?_ -, Leah cried even more and Haleigh kissed her forehead with affection.

"Hush, child. You are by blood and by name an Aker - _a warrior_ \- and you have enough strength in your soul to overcome this. Leave this place and search for a better future, if you stay learn how to use a sword and fight for what's yours to claim by birhright. You are my grandchildren's daughter, you have my blood on your veins and you are as worthy of being Lady of these lands as I once was. Never forget it." The young woman held back the tears trying to be as strong as Haleigh believed her to be. One day she would learn how to fight and then she would prove to be worthy of ruling the lands of Aker. She would be a merciful Lady and marry a man whose pride would not be affected by having to obey a woman's command. She would bare two children, a boy named Adriel and a girl, Edith III. No matter the years, Leah would always remember the kindness of the undead woman. "Farewell, Lady Haleigh."

"Farewell, _Sweet Leah_ , may the stars be kind to you." She rode into the woods leaving what was left of her past behind. No beast bothered her that day since they knew better than to fight a woman carrying a sword with a _steady hand_ and a deadly stare. Fourty-three days passed until something worth mentioning took place. It was _dusk_ , when the moon arose she made a fire, killed a hare and cooked its meat. The ghost appeared besides her. "Do you want some?"

"You seem to forget I am dead, _Mahtar_." He had risen an eyebrow looking sightly amused. She had tried to show kindness to the spectre but how do you do so to a restless soul? She did not know. He was strange but his company was better than none. "I do not. It's hard to ignore the fact that you are nothing but shape in the air, Calion, but I do not know if you can eat or rest."

" _Neither_. You should have asked for a bow, your offsprings would have given you one, it is more useful than a sword." Haleigh would not tell the elf-ghost she was not particularly good in archery. She preferred short distance fights where a soft wind would never interfere and make her lose. The ghost stopped talking abruptly, and looked into the darkness of Mirkwood. "Take your weapon, _Mahtar_ , we are not alone. There's a beast lurking in these woods."

He disappeared and _The Lonesome Aker_ was left alone. The lurking creature - _a wolf maybe?_ \- was fast but she was faster with her sword, she made him fall and almost cut his throat when she realised it was just a boy-a child with sharp features and the ears of an elf, a _Silvan_. He was terrified, no sound was made by neither of them.

"Are you hungry, child? Take the food and leave the woods before you find something worst than me. _Go now_." He obeyed. They were far enough from the elf's domain not to draw attention to them -Haleigh hadn't expected to find one of that kin. And if elves themselves were rare to find, a child amongst them was an oddity -she had never seen one before. When the ghost showed himself once again she threw a stone at him, of course, it passed through without him noticing. "You, miserable slinker! I almost killed a child because of your foolish nonsense. How come you call your own kin _lurking beast_?!"

"It was not the child I was warning you about, _fool_." A pair of eyes watched her from the shadows -this was not a child, nor a wolf. _Something bigger, something worse_. Haleigh held her sword with both hands, ready for the fight and the pain. She could have run but she chose not to. A hare being chased by a wolf does not need to be faster than the wolf, only faster than another hare. If she ran and hid the beast would haunt something else, something who could not climb trees or fight like her - _a child_ , for instance. No, Haleigh had to stay. "Try not to die, _Mahtar_."

"Was that a joke, Calion? Your witticisms amuse me." She breathed slowly, thinking about each breathe and preparing herself. The lurking creature came closer to the fire and showed itself. A caragor. New starved eyes watched her. She closed her eyes and counted the breathings, the number of steps - _three caragors against a lone warrior_. "Elf, I want you to know, if I die it's your fault."

Armed with the heavy sword, Haleigh cut the reins of the horse - _Moonless_ , she had named it- and it galloped away trying to save its life. A caragor ran after it -now there were only two against her. The warrior stroke the burning wood of the fire she had made with the foot and it hit the closest beast. The other lunged, Haleigh darted into the woods -away from the child- and scampered between fallen branches and spider webs. There was no sign of life in there -only her heavy breathing and the beasts following her trail. She would not die, she _could not_ die, since death was no stranger to her. And yet, she was afraid.

The beast haunted her as if she was a hare. She could feel the sharp teeth sink into her skin - _and the blood_ , hot and metallic and disgusting. The creature tried to break her neck and put an end to her misery but Haleigh stabbed it deeply with her sword and the caragor set her free. They were both wounded, _they were both going to die_ -maybe this way Haleigh could finally see her sons again-. The starved beast jumped, its pray took her sword with _steady hands_ and stabbed it through the skull before the beast could end her life.

"Well, it could have been worst." Said the terribly wounded woman - _more dead than alive_ \- while she found it hard to breathe. She fell to the ground, bloody mouth and deep wounds -she had lost too many blood. Haleigh would not die since her curse made her unable to do so, but she would _suffer and suffer and suffer_ -until her body decayed leaving behind a restless ghost blinded by sorrow and revenge -a doomed soul like Calion's. She spat blood while slowly loosing consciousness. Another caragor arrived, she could not fight.

Haleigh closed her eyes - _and died_. The starved beast came closer but before it could satisfy its hunger an arrow ended its life. The elf-ghost saw how another creature roamed around the warrior -slender figure, clear blue eyes and sharp features. Her eyes opened once again, she screamed and felt her heart beating again. Haleigh came back to life under the curious stare of a _greenleaf_ _elf_.

* * *

Since I'm a mess and i can't keep track of all the characters I've created who are are named the same (why the hell did I have to do that) I've done a family tree. Here it is in case you're as lost as I am:

https://docs.google.com/drawings/d/1G-hbj3N4RnW7QTLnsLapOx3mokXz1boH5lVKVLKwVZ8/edit?usp=sharing

(I have no idea how to add photos here sorry)

The darker gray names are the ones who are dead and the names in bold are of those who had ruled the Aker Lands at some point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I don't even know what I'm doing. I just hope this isn't complete rubbish. 
> 
> I have this story more or less planned and I've made a list of all the events that happen between Haleigh's "death" (in 2567) and the time she comes back (in 2767).
> 
> Also, the reason why there wasn't any woman in charge of the Aker's lands in the family tree is because there are two things you need to have to be able to rule those lands: you need to be an Aker by birth (not by marriage) and you need to have the surname. That usually excludes the woman who get married (and take their husband's name) and the descendants of those -in Haleigh case, her sons became Lords because when she married it was her husband who took her name and not the other way around.


	3. The moon, the sun, and all the stars in the sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elves, ghosts and more elves.

In the white lands of the North, where the air was cold and the souls colder -the northmen sharpened their weapons. Not far from the lands of their Lord, seven men and three women stood around a fire in those lonesome woods. The war their fathers had fought was not over and now it was their turn to stand up and fight - _and die_.

"You look like a queen when you're lost in thought, has anyone ever told you that, Lady Haleigh?" The Mother of Lords left her sword aside, smiled morosely and looked at the warrior, Declan was his name. He kissed her and sat near the fire in that cold dreadful night. "I don't think anyone has ever compared me to a queen, Declan. Furthermore, I don't think I'd ever want to be one."

"How so?" He said. Their children were safe asleep in their home but they were _not_ , lost in the deep woods -with not enough food to last weeks- haunting a dark wizard. Blood magic, _dark magic_ -how were they supposed to win against a creature as powerful as Fahern was? They couldn't, _they wouldn't_. Haleigh closed her eyes and held his hands on hers. "Well, what I've discovered about sovereigns is that you're either a bad one or a wise one. And to be wise you need to have suffered a lot -that is not a life I wish for me."

The night was still young and they were still alive, hence all men and women drank and laughed since death seemed a fate too far away to cause concern. All her friends, all her beloved ones - _they would all die_. But while enjoying the gift of ignorance Haleigh laughed and danced and kissed her husband without shame nor worry. One of the warriors made her a crown with branches and she stood -with a goblet of wine in one hand and a sword in the other- in front of the fireplace, drunk and joyful and ready to make a satirical speach. "You all be quiet, the queen is speaking. My first command as monarch of these lands is to grand _my dearest_ , Lord Declan, immortality - _so I would never have to live a day without him_."

" _What_?" Declan, with great pleasure and ignoring that he would die that very same night, looked at his wife wearing a smile so bright it seemed to be made of sunlight. There were no words to describe what he felt -Declan loved her like the sun loves the moon, like winter loves snow and a sword loves a good fight. He laughed delighted. "Queens don't give immortality to people."

" _They would if they could._ " Haleigh drank what was left in the goblet, closed her eyes and kissed the love of her life -when she opened them he was _dead_. The landless land of the astrayed souls consumed her slowly, _painfully_ , nevertheless she did not want to leave -her husband was there, her children were there; even if they were only an illusion. The elf-ghost appeared, he held her closely. "This is not real, _Mahtar_ , you need to wake up."

She crumbled and cried and begged for mercy - _for death_. Not even the moon and the sun and all the stars in the sky could manage to bring light to her darkened heart. Haleigh was brought back to the land of the living and it hurt all the same. There was no strength left in her body to hold back the tears.

"I know this is a dream, but why is it a dream? Why can't it be _real_?" The elf didn't answer since he did not know -a long time ago he had asked himself the very same question and even now it remained unanswered. _Why?_ Why where they left on earth alone to suffer and weep? What unforgivable offence have they commited to deserve such a terrible fate? He was still holding her while she cried. "I do not know, I wish I knew."

They remained there, in the depths of the woodland realm, imprisoned and in pain but not alone for they were holding each other. Calion looked at her -when was the last time he had hugged someone?- and decided he would always prefer revenge over pain. Revenge comes from anger and there is a strange kind of satisfaction in anger - _you can scream and fight and kill_ \- meanwhile pain only _hurts_. "Where are we?"

"Greenwood The Great, the elf's domain. You've remained not dead but lost in the darkness for three days, _Mahtar_. Your wounds have been healed by my kin but you are not welcomed -there are soldiers guardian these doors." He cautioned. There was a weight in his chest, _heavier than the world itself_ -it never left and it never became easier to bear. It was made of forgotten memories, white lies and love promises -it was made of all the things he used to love. Nothing remained of that time, and it was exactly that nothingness what weighed. An unbareable burden they both carried -the ghost and the warrior- although Haleigh still recalled those precious memories. Maybe that was even more heinous than oblivion.

They endured in those quarters until an elf -not old nor young since time did not affect her kin- with hair made of gold and eyes bluer than the deepest oceans, entered the place. A _healer_ , stoic as all elves of that realm were. She could not see Calion although she sensed his presence -an intangible soul that could be felt. "My name is Ivoriel, I am one of the royal healers. Who are you, stranger? And what were you doing in my king's domain?"

"I am Haleigh Aker from the northern lands, the _Steady Hand_ , _Mother of Lords_. I am on a quest towards south, I must find Fahern -the dark wizard." She declared, her throat was sore and her voice a mere whisper. Beside the healer was an archer -bening eyes and clothes as green as the tree leaves- who stared at her with undeniable curiosity. The stranger was young -in human standards- and despite that fact her eyes had the weight of a hundred years. He could see it - _the pain_ , the remorse, and something else, arcane and ethereal -there was something _very_ old traveling with her. Ivoriel took care of her almost scarred wounds and commanded. "You shall rest now, the king will see you tomorrow."

"Thank you for healing me." Alistair _The Great_ , her father, had taught her a long time ago to be grateful to gentle strangers for there would be many who chose viciousness instead of kindness. Although elves were pretentious creatures and they rarely valued men's opinion on them, Ivoriel had to hide how pleased she was with the warrior's words -at least until the king decided what to do with her. "You should not thank me, I merely obey the prince's orders."

"In that case, could you thank him? -could you thank the prince?" She added, and the prince, who was in that very same room, could not cease to be fascinated by the woman's behaviour -he had not seen many of her kin and the ones who bared her name were naturally hostile towards the elves of Mirkwood. The Aker domains -Letheon and the surrounding villages- were known for its vast hospitality towards foreigners. Only during the years of Caelan _The Wise_ outsiders and elves of the woodland realm alike had been welcomed in those cold desolated lands. "I will assure he knows of your gratefulness, Haleigh Aker."

Then, she was left alone with her thoughts -and the ghost. Plenty of fruits had been left in the room to satisfy her hunger therefore she ate and rested until dawn would come. She did not sleep -sleep was far too close to death hence it brought her back to the landless land of the forgotten.

"Enough time has been lost, we must leave. _Now_." A rage-blinded spectre's consideration cannot last long since its very existence was a result of vitriol and despair. In another time he had had a benevolent soul and indulgent eyes, despite this, his eyes now knew no mercy for no mercy he had received. He was cold and empty, mirroring the northern lands. Haleigh closed her eyes. "You are a ghost, Calion, you can leave whenever you want. I, on the other hand, intend to stay here and do as I'm told."

Annoyed with her words the elf-ghost disappeared and left Haleigh lonesome with her fears and sorrows. Her robes were besides the bed -they had changed her into soft elvish clothes which were of the colour of a dying sunset. They were beautiful although not precisely useful for a warrior.

There was only a window in the room, small enough to make it impossible for her to escape through it -she wouldn't even try it- _however_ , a child could easily enter through it -and that was exactly what happened. An elf - _a child,_ came thought it. The child she had threatened in the woods. "What are you doing here, child?"

"I saw the beasts in the woods. _You saved me_ , now I want to save you before the king decides you are a threat." He murmured with a strong sindarian accent. Calion appeared once again when the opportunity to escape arose, they still had a long road ahead. Howbeit, Haleigh did not move since she had no intention of offending the elves -they had been merciful and it would be a terrible mistake to leave now. As a child, she had not been the best at diplomacy -her brother had always had a gift for that unlike her- although she had learned that elves hardly ever forget the offences made to them and since they live an eternity it is better to have them as allies. The child broke a side of the window to make the hole big enough for her to fit but the _Steady Hand_ stayed still. "We must leave now. Foreigners are not welcomed by the king, he might _kill you_."

"I will kindly thank him if he succeeds." She said which lead Calion to complain openly about her actions and for such behaviour Haleigh ignored him completely. Elvish children were quite similar to human children -they were far older, of course, but they were children nevertheless. The elf was tender-hearted -like _Sweet Leah_ , like her sons- and he was young enough not to understand death nor pain. "What- for men death is the end, how could anyone wish that?"

"There are far more terrible fates than death. _Love_ , for instance." She explained even though he did not understand. His father and mother loved eachother enough to leave towards the undying lands together -leaving him behind to grow and decide for himself- and they had shared that kind of love that heals and mends the broken parts of oneself -a _pure_ love without desolation and pain. For Haleigh, love was an incurable disease that only consumed her.

" _For men_ , both love and death are the end of us. Death brings us peace while love only aches, for that reason I will always chose death -if I can. I'm done with love, I've had enough, I've suffered enough. _Now I want peace_." She thought about Declan and then disregarded every memory of him hoping that way it would ache less not to have him at her side. Calion had stopped talking, he glanced at her trying to recall what he had seen in her dreams. A man, older than her, with green emerald eyes and a smile with no pride nor malice -only _love_. He spoke no words but remained in the room nonetheless. The child caught sight of her wounds and scars -too many to be counted. "You saved my life and gave me food when I starved -I don't want you to die."

"I am cursed, child, I cannot die." No matter how much she wanted to. There was resignation in her voice -and affliction. The ghost understood her agony but the child could not -luckily he had not suffered enough to be able to. Haleigh ate a bit more of what was left on the plate and looked at the young elf. "If you want to help me -stay the night, I don't want to be alone."

He understood that, sometimes he couldn't stand being alone as well. His parents had died -in what elves acknowledge as death- and their souls were no longer in Middle Earth. He missed them despite knowing one day he would see them again in Valinor. The child took some of the food and sat on the bed with his legs crossed. "What is your name?"

"Níndir. And yours is Haleigh -I've heard prince Legolas say it." That night Haleigh told the child the same stories about her family _Sweet Leah_ had told her not so long ago, and in exchange, Níndir told her about prince Legolas and king Thranduil, about the dwarfs and the Lonely Mountain not far from the elvish realm. The childless mother and the parentless son didn't feel excessively lonesome that night. When the sun light came through the broken window Níndir left and the king's guards entered the quarters and guided her through the elf's domain. The warrior had already been there once -as a child- and had seen king Thranduil -gracious and imposing-, looking at him again after so many years was comforting -not everything had been destroyed by time, the elves remained, they always would. She bowed to the king while one of the royal guards introduced her. "Your majesty, king Thranduil Oropherion of the woodland realm. Lady Haleigh, the _Steady Hand_ , from the northern lands of Aker."

The archer and the healer -Ivoriel- stood besides the sumptuous throne from where the king observed her meticulously. She was a stranger -a possible threat, and as sovereign he had to assure she would do no harm to his kin. During the War of the Two Lands -where her father had been chosen Lord by his people- the elves had offered aid and supplies since Alistair had been a reasonable ruler -not like Asher II, too prideful, too intolerant. The king knew her, at least by name -his voice was deep and discerning. "I've been told you are haunting a dark wizard -Fahern, the _úvanimo_ , an adversary who had been lost for almost two hundred years. Many of my kin have perished by his hand, what makes you believe you won't suffer the same fate?"

 _Úvanimo_ , a name men tell their children in their fairytales -a monster of the past. Calion stood besides her -as intangible as he was- with the same gracefulness the living elves had. He knew the king -he had known his father- although all those memories had been astrayed long ago. Níndir, hidden but eavesdropping in the conversation, was looking at Haleigh wishing for her not to anger the sovereingn. Not even all the stars that lightened the darkest moonless night could manage to bare such an ethereal beauty, he was a king -and he looked like one. "King of the elves of the greenwood, I am a cursed soul -the gift of mortality has been taken away from me. I've faced Fahern in the war of the Two Lands, I've lost it all that was deared and precious to me."

"If I must fight for a thousand years, so be it. I know fear, pain and death -there's nothing he can take away from me now." He understood that pain -better than anyone. The torture of remaining alive while another is gone -he would never forget his beloved wife. Not many were _foolish_ enough to dare to haunt a creature terrible such as Fahern, however, Haleigh didn't appeared to be a fool -there was a cold wind traveling with her, a soul he could not identify; and that arcane spectre made him decide what had to be done. "I offer you my help -two of my most skilled archers and horses faster than starlight will be provided to you, Haleigh of the northern lands. Fahern is loathsome being corrupted by power -you will not succeed without aid."

"In exchange- bring me his head." She bowed accepting his demands for they were reasonable. Haleigh left guided by Ivoriel leaving the king alone with the greenleaf prince -a beaning elf with not much knowledge about the agony that blinded the _Steady_ _Hand's_ soul. "She seems harmless."

"There's more than it seems, Legolas. She is a sharp warrior, although not much of a threat for someone suchlike Fahern. The creature accompanying her however..." In the landless land of the broken soula not many could remain without losing themselves completely -and become soulless spectres made of sorrow and bloodthirst- despite this fact, Calion had endured - _never forgiving, never forgetting_. And now, that ghost had a vessel who would do his will at command. Thranduil glanced at the door thought which Haleigh had left and finished his statement. "Is a being of unimaginable power."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil is a fabulous and beautiful drama queen and I love him so much. 
> 
> In the Hobbit movies there isn't much about how he deals with the death of his wife and when I watched it I thout it was a shame the didn't dig into it. Instead of making a love triangle I'd have prefered to see them talk about grief and the pain of loss, that's why I changed the character I had originally planed for Haleigh (she was only supposed to be a warrior with no husband or children), so that way her and Thranduil would share the same pain. Despite the fact they deal with it differently, in the end they are just two people grieving and that's a very strong link because in my experience there's something comforting in finding someone who suffers like you do.


End file.
